AllFreeNovel
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My thumb hovered over the SHARE button. Once the picture posted to my account, there would be no going back. Within seconds, we’d have thousands of likes, and the comments and questions would start rolling in. Some from haters and some from uber fans. Either way, this would thrust Scarlett from her normal life as a teen and into the spotlight.
Did she really know what she was getting into? I wondered.
Doubtful. How could she? No one understood what fame was like until they lived it. And by then, it wasn’t so easy to change it. Regardless, it wasn’t my job to protect her. From the sounds of it, she needed my help as much as I needed hers. She’d explained her family’s situation to me. They were getting a raw deal, and though I’d like to say it surprised me, when you were famous, you often saw the worst of humanity. People thought just because you were a star that you had a spine of steel. That words somehow lost their meaning and bounced right off your theoretical hard outer shell.
But they didn’t. Maybe you got used to the death threats, the hate, and the insults, but that didn’t mean they hurt any less.
Besides, something told me Scarlett could protect herself. So consequences be damned, I hit SEND, then clicked off the screen and dialed Trainer.
It was time to put the second part of my plan into effect.
Chapter 8
SCARLETT
BythetimeIarrived at school on Monday morning, I was dying to talk to Penelope. She’d spent the day yesterday touring Brown University with Topher—her top choice school, so she hadn’t been around to confide in, and I was practically bursting with the news.
I arrived early and waited in the back of the cafeteria behind the lounge area that housed the fancy water bottle refill stations and the vending machines that contained pricey bottles of Fiji and Perrier, as opposed to your standard Aquafina. Apparently, pretentious water meant you made it in life.
The heels of my boots clicked over the tile as I paced back and forth, watching while the cafeteria slowly filled with the scent of bacon and the breakfast crowd. I chewed my thumbnail, then grimaced and dropped my hand, wishing I were a nail-biter so I’d have a way to diffuse my nerves. But I just couldn’t bring myself to chew on my own protein. The idea alone wigged me out.
When P’s familiar face appeared among the crowd, I smiled. Head down, Penelope weaved through the tables and cut across the cafeteria toward me, wearing a Brown University hoodie.
After what felt like eons, she stopped in front of me and pinched the sweatshirt, holding it out while her forehead scrunched. “You don’t think it’s bad luck, do you?”
I shook my head. Nervous energy pinged inside my chest, practically giddy to see her. “Definitely not. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that.”
“Exactly.” She snapped her fingers and pointed. “That’s what I told Topher.”
“I assume you loved it, then?”
“I did,” she said with a dreamy sigh. Then she straightened, and the clouds cleared from her eyes as she asked, “So, how was it?”
“Was what?” I asked, my tone teasing.
“Out with it.” She wiggled her fingers, and I couldn’t hold out any longer even if I tried.
After I posted my latest design to Instagram last night, I saw the tag in Thorne’s post and almost fainted when I clicked on it. Not because of the photo of me in his feed—although that was enough to give a girl heart palpitations—but because of the nearly four million likes it got.
FOUR MILLION.
And last I checked, I gained nearly fifty thousand followers overnight. Not to mention how completely surreal it was to see Thorne Roberts was following me and had liked several of my posts. It’s like I’d been living in the Twilight Zone for the last forty-eight hours. Any minute, I’d wake up and it would all be over, like it was some kind of mind warp or an elaborate dream or something.
“Come on, I’m dying here!” P clasped her hands, and I laughed.
But as luck would have it, the second I opened my mouth to put her out of her misery, an all-too-familiar voice pierced the air between us like a shard of glass. “Are you over here trying to scavenge more leftovers, Skunk? Nothing like sloppy seconds.”
Gabby Haines arched one overly stenciled brow, a snotty smirk stretched over her bubblegum-pink lips.
“Pah! The only thing sloppy around here is that sad excuse of a skirt you’re wearing,” I said, shielding my eyes like the sight of it burned my corneas. “Is that”—I drew in an exaggerated breath—“sweatpant material?Cringe.”
Gabby’s gaze flickered to me, and her smile fell as her jaw dropped. Based on the way she stared at me like a guppy, I guessed she hadn’t seen me standing there.
Leave it to her to zero in on her target and nothing else.
“Oh, um, Scarlett. I didn’t even see you there.” Her hands fluttered to the hem of her short skirt, which was truly tragic
“This is actually a great coincidence,” she said, like P and I weren’t practically attached at the hip and it surprised her to find me with her. “I was actually looking for you. I, uh, wanted to ask about the lab assignment in chemistry.”
